Hunger Games: Peeta's Tale
by DarknessRainz
Summary: Exactly what it sounds like. Hunger Games just from Peeta's POV.
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning

I was woken by the sound of my mother screaming at my brothers. Not an unusual sound other than the fact that her screams were usually directed at me, the youngest. I arose from the cot I slept on and threw on an apron. It wasn't worth it to actually get dressed; I wouldn't be wearing the clothes for that long.

Today was the day of the Reaping. The day where they chose which boy and which girl from our district would get sent to the capitol as a sacrificial offering.

I suppose I shouldn't put it like that. It isn't an offering but it may as well be. They send one boy and one girl from each of the 12 districts to fight to the death in an event they call The Hunger Games. District 12 is poor and starving, it isn't like we ever stand a chance, so if your name is chosen from that bowl, you know you know you're going to die. It's just instant knowledge. Some people in the town actually bet against our own children hoping to make a little extra money.

It was amazing how busy the bakery was on reaping day. Parents trying to eat their fears and planning celebrations for when their children weren't (they hoped) chosen streamed in and out of the bakery. It was a miracle my mother had even let me sleep that long. I'd like to think it was because she felt bad that I put my name in extra times to get us extra food, but in reality it was probably because she just didn't want me to be in the way.

I walked down the creaky stairs from our upstairs apartment down to the kitchen. The second I got down, my mother grabbed my arm, "Peeta Mellark, today is not a morning to be sleeping in. I need these cakes frosted and decorated immediately."

She dragged me in front of a row of 6 or 7 cakes waiting to be decorated, which happened to be one of my very few acknowledged talents by my mother. Even she accepted the fact that I decorated cakes better than anyone in our family.

I got to work without saying a word to her or anyone else in the kitchen. My older brothers were working nearby but we didn't speak. Clark was finally old enough that he didn't have to worry about the Reaping for himself so he was carefree as always and Gavin was on his last year but not entered nearly as many times as me. He was "needed" in the bakery. And I, according to my mother, could be replaced.

The one person in my family that I actually talked to was my father. He was working the front counter and I could see him above the racks of bread. I heard, rather than saw him, talking to a familiar deep voice. Gale Hawthorne. He was from the Seam, the poorest part of District 12, where all the coal miners and their families lived. As far as I knew, Gale was a decent guy. He looked very much like any other Seam child. Black hair, olive skin, but he had these grey eyes that I had only seen in one other face before. All the girls would whisper when he walked by, even from the Seam he was a heartthrob. I knew he took care of his family single-handedly, so we saw quite a bit of him trading things he hunted for bread. This morning was no exception as I could hear him trying to make a deal with my father, who kept looking back to make sure my mother wasn't watching. That's how I knew he was giving Gale a huge break.

Sure enough, he came in the back a moment later to grab one of the fresh loaves were still warm and whispered to me, "If your mother asks, he paid for that bread with the squirrel and money."

"You're giving it to him for just a squirrel?" I asked, hardly surprised.

My father looked down at the ground, "It's the day of the Reaping. Everyone deserves to have a full stomach on a day like today."

He walked back to the front. I heard Gale thank him and my father wish him luck softly, still glancing over his shoulder to make sure my mother wasn't paying attention.

I went quietly back to work decorating the cakes until my mother grabbed the frosting from me, "Go get dressed. You can't go into the square for the Reaping looking like you just rolled out of bed. Go."

I cringed at my mother's harsh words but both Gavin and I walked back up the stairs. "You scared?" he questioned rather tauntingly.

"No." I responded harshly.

My brother shrugged it off showing my harsh tone had absolutely no effect on him. I changed my clothes and started to comb through my blond hair that I let hang nearly over my eyes. Gavin stood there and watched me for a few moments, before I finally looked up at him with a questioning glance.

"I'm sorry mom made you put your name in more times."

I shrugged, "It's no big deal."

"No. It is. She shouldn't have done that. Or said the things she did. I know it's always been like that, but…I'm still sorry."

I stood up from the chair I was seated in, brushing anything off of the slacks I was wearing, "It's really nothing. I'm sure neither of us will have to worry about it."

Gavin nodded. That was probably the most civil conversation my brother and I had ever had, and it would probably be the last. We both walked down the stairs and helped our father cover the windows and lock the shop. Then we all headed to the public square to attend the required Reaping, just like every year before.


	2. Chapter 2: The Reaping

So I don't really write fanfiction and I'm not really editing these before I post them. Kind of an impulsive decision to write this because I'm sick and can't do anything else. If people like it, I will keep writing and maybe actually start editing before posting. :P

Hope you guys enjoy. Here's the second chapter.

As we walk into the square, it's already filled with all the children of the District. You could easily tell the things about them just by looking. The 12-year-olds were panicking, this being their first year. The 18-year-olds were trying to act cool but the anxiety on their face showed; just one more name drawn from that bowl and they were free forever. The Seam kids, with their names entered anywhere from 20-60 times, looked calm. Their everyday life was a fight between life and death, maybe it didn't seem as big of a deal. And all the city kids, Mayor's daughter, officials' children, anyone from near me, looked completely peaceful, their names were in those bowls 1-7 times depending on their age. They knew they had nothing to worry about.

Then there was me, I should be calm, not worried with the other kids. I knew the Seam kids had their names in so many more times than me. The "odds were in my favor", as the eccentric lady who read off the names every year would say. But it didn't matter. Today didn't feel right. I found myself searching for that pair of breathtaking grey eyes among the Seam kids, but of course, in the crowds, I couldn't see her. Her best friend and eye-color clone was standing not too far away from me, stone-faced and staring forward.

The Mayor and the eccentric lady Effie take two of the three seats on the stage. The third remains empty and everyone in the crowd knows it belongs to the one of two winners District 12 has ever had.

At the strike of 2pm, they begin without him. The Mayor begins by telling an extremely dull account of the history of the country we live in, Panem. He tells of District 13's uprising against the Capitol and then speaks of the Capitol as if it saved us from all things wrong and evil. He began the tale of The Hunger Games then, making it sound like a gift to us, like it wasn't a punishment for the uprising, like the Capitol wasn't using killing 23 children every year as a way to show us we are totally under their control. They treat it like a sport, like a festivity, and some of the districts do as well.

He continues by reading a list of the victors of our District. All two of them. As if on cue, Haymitch Abernathy, the one living victor, stumbled onto stage completely drunk. The Mayor had obvious distress on his face as he watched Haymitch make a laughing stock of our entire district on live television all over Panem.

He tried to brush the excitement aside by introducing Effie Trinket to the front of the stage. She came bouncing up to the microphone with neon pink hair and a green dress.

"Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be EVER in your favor!" she beings. She continues talking about how big of an honor it is to be here but we've all known for years she's hoping and praying to get moved to a better district.

I tune out most of what she's saying, but tune back in as her high-pitched voice cries "Ladies first!" The entire square went completely silent, holding their breath, wondering who it would be.

"Primrose Everdeen." The girl with the grey eye's little sister. A girl so small you'd think her much younger than her barely 12 years.

The crowd is already murmuring unhappily. No one likes it when a child so young is chosen. She started to walk up to the front so I could see her. She was white as a ghost and even smaller than I remember, but to her credit, she walked straight and stiffly, showing absolutely no emotion. You could see her sister in her at that moment.

"PRIM." There it was. Her sister's voice. I knew I would hear it. I saw the crowd separate as she came flying through the crowd. For a second time stops as I see her. She's wearing a soft blue dress, something that looks way too expensive for the Seam, and her hair is braided and up. She looks beautiful even in her panicked state. Time snaps back as she pushes her sister back into the crowd and cries, "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute."

Everyone gasps in shock, but not really surprise. Anyone who knows the girl knows that Primrose is the only thing in the world she cares about.

Effie beams, she never gets this much excitement in District 12. The Mayor and her discussed something. Probably about the protocol of volunteering, but the Mayor seemed to dismiss whatever it was Effie was objecting to as he cries out "Let her come forward."

By this point, Prim has lost it, she was screaming and trying to get at her sister, "NO! Katniss, you can't! You can't go!"

Katniss roughly shoved her sister off and Gale steps forward to pick up the hysterical girl. The entire crowd's heart has gone out to them both. You could feel it in the air as Katniss climbed the steel steps to the top of the stage.

Effie continued to gush, asking Katniss her name and why she volunteered. When she asks for applause, not one person in the crowd claps, instead slowly every person touches their three middle fingers to their lips and then up at Katniss. This rare gesture of respect is obviously getting to Katniss, you can see her face begin to fall apart, but Haymitch uses this moment to come up and drunkenly ramble before plummeting himself off the stage to the hard ground.

"What an exciting day!" was all Effie could say as Haymitch was loaded on a stretcher and taken out of the square. "But more excitement to come! It's time to choose our boy tribute!"

As she walked over to the bowl, my breath and heart beat became more and more unsteady. It wouldn't be me. It couldn't be. I kept telling myself that over and over, trying to make myself believe it.

"Peeta Mellark!"

Or…I guess it could be me.


	3. Chapter 3: The Boy with the Bread

Chapter 3: The Boy with the Bread

The crowd separated around me, all my peers turned to look at me. I stepped forward and started to walk up to the stage trying to keep my face carefully blank. I felt like a deer walking towards the butchering knife.

I stepped up onto the platform, Effie gestured for me to come to the center where she was, "Are there any volunteers?" The crowd was, of course, silent. I looked out at the crowd and saw Gavin staring up at me, but the second he saw me looking at him, he looked down. I knew there was no way my brother would volunteer for me. I wouldn't expect him to in general and our mother would never allow it. So I stood there, staring straight forward, waited for Effie to realize that no one was going to follow in Katniss's footsteps.

Finally she seemed to accept there would be no more excitement and the Mayor stepped forward to read the Treaty of Treason as he does every year. I glanced over to the opposite side of the stage where the grey-eyed girl I had paid attention to for as long as I can remember but never spoken to. I caught her eye for just a second and the expression in them made me wonder if she was thinking of the same thing I was.

It was about 5 years ago. There had been some deaths in the mines a few months previously and I knew her dad had been one of them. I had always watched her. I don't know why. Something about her was so intriguing. I kept tabs on her even though I had never talked to her.

I remember the day as clearly as if it were yesterday. It was late afternoon and dark as night, freezing rain was falling from the sky in rapid sheets that stabbed into your skin like icy knives. I had the benefit of staying inside most of the day near the warm ovens helping my mother bake bread.

As I crossed the room carrying bread from the cooling racks to the front sale shelves, I glanced out the window and saw her. Kathness, I thought her name was at the time. She was opening our garbage bin. I could barely see her through the rain, but I could see she was drowning in a hunting jacket that must have been her father's. Her face was white as snow and her dark hair was drenched and plastered to her face. She looked hollow and desperate. I watched her for just a moment long enough for my mother to catch me. She swore under her breath at the sight and stormed to the door.

"Move on, girl! Do you want me to call the Peacekeepers? I'm sick of you little brats coming through my trash. Have you no pride or manners? Get out before you receive more than you bargained for."

I watched from behind my mother's face as the girl shirked back looking embarrassed and angry even in her obviously weakened state. My mother slammed the door cursing and swearing that they should send these brats to the orphanage then screamed at me to take the bread out of the oven.

I said nothing as I crossed back over to the ovens. I looked at the two perfect loaves, golden and smelling like heaven. I wondered if those two loaves would be enough to keep the grey-eyed girl's family alive. I wondered why we were allowed to have so much food around us and not help out those who needed it. Without another thought, I knocked the loaves into the fire, scorching them beyond repair.

Clark stood near me and whistled, "You're going to get it now."

I pronged the loaves out of the fire, looking behind to see if my mother had noticed yet, "What is taking you so long, boy?"

She turned around and looked at me, "What did you do?! Those were perfect! You stupid child."

I cringed as I knew what was coming. She snatched the bread paddle from my hand and slapped me across the face as hard as she was able to. I bit back the tears as I grabbed the loaves up from the cooling rack. They were still hot, but I needed to make sure I grabbed the loaves before my mother did. The burns on my arms hurt, but not as badly as my face stung.

"I'm sorry. Do you want me to throw them away, mother?" I asked as quietly as I could.

"Feed it to the pig, you stupid creature! Why not? No one will buy burned bread!"

I walked outside trying to stay out of the rain and started to tear off the burned crusts and toss them toward the pig pen. I said a silent thank you to whoever came into the store at the moment causing my mother to walk back to the front. I glanced back toward my mother, making sure she wasn't watching, and I stepped out into the rain.

The freezing sleet stung my face even more and I tried hard not to express how much pain I was in. Glancing back one more time, I threw the first loaf near the girl's feet, then the second one. I made sure not to look at her as I turned around and ran back inside slamming the door behind me.

I leaned against the door holding my face in pain. Gavin smirked at me, "Clumsy. Mom says you aren't eating today to make up for the money you lost."

I shrugged, trying to cover the hunger pains swirling in my stomach. It was worth it. I wasn't going to eat for a day to save that girl's life. I didn't regret it.

My flashback ended and I subconsciously put my hand to my face, feeling the pain again. My mother hit me a lot as a child, but I don't remember her ever hitting me as hard as she did that day. My face and eye were black and blue for over a week. I wondered if she remembered any of that. If she even knew that was me.

As the speech finished, the Mayor made Katniss and I shake hands. Her hands were cold and strong, just like her eyes. But for one second, emotion flickered in those grey eyes I had been so obsessed with as a child, and as the Anthem began, I knew two things.

The first thing was she knew exactly who I was and in her eyes, she almost seemed to resent me for it.

The second thing was more important. There was no way I could let her die in that arena. Even if it meant my death. I didn't know what it was about her. But I promised myself that I would not let her die.


	4. Chapter 4: Goodbyes

Just a quick chapter before I leave for work. Sorry it's so rough.

Hope you guys are still enjoying it.

Chapter 4: Goodbyes

As soon as the anthem ended, they escorted Katniss and I off the stage and straight to the Justice Building into separate rooms by ourselves. For the next hour, loved ones had the change to come and say their goodbyes to us.

I glanced around the room they put me in. The furniture was a rich velvety red with a dark thick shag carpet. I had never seen such wealth anywhere including in the Mayor's home. There was a couch, where I was gestured to sit before the door slammed me in, facing two chairs.

Only two people could come in at once, so when the door opened, so I was a little surprised when the first person was just my father. He sat down stiffly in the chair across from me. "That girl. Do you remember what I said about her?"

I nodded, "You wanted to marry her mother."

He nodded, "Don't kill the girl. You don't have to keep her alive. Just don't be the one to kill her."

I chuckled bitterly, "If anything, dad, she'd be able to kill me. I've seen the game she brings in to trade."

My father nodded again. "Besides, dad, I couldn't do it. I just…couldn't."

A small smile crept over his face as if he realized right then the intrigue that girl had over me, but the smile instantly fell as he realized that it was likely neither of us would be coming home and for sure, not both of us.

"Take care." He rose and pulled me into a rough hug. "The house won't be the same without you."

"Yeah. Not as much screaming." I bitterly responded.

He smiled roughly, "I love you, son."

Then he turned and walked out without looking back.

The door opened again and this time it was both of my brothers. They both came in, looking so similar in appearance and so different from me. They both had dark hair and dark eyes like our mother, while I guess I resembled my father with my light hair and blue eyes. They were both so much larger than me and looked awkward sitting in the fancy chairs in front of me.

I awkwardly sat with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. Finally Clark opened his mouth, "Fight hard. You're strong."

Gavin nodded, "The cakes won't look nearly as good without you."

"Mom can handle it."

There was an awkward pause in the conversation until again Clark stood up and held out his hand to me. I reached out to shake it, but he pulled me to my feet and held me in a tight hug. I had never felt like my brother loved me before this moment and the realization was enough to bring a tear to my eye. After Clark left go, Gavin awkwardly shook my hand and then, as if by impulse, also gave me a quick hug.

Before they spun around and left the room, I saw tears pricking in both their eyes. "I love you guys." I called after them. They both turned around with a sad smile before the door was slammed between us.

I waited a few more minutes before the door opened again, this time it was really unexpected; Gale Hawthorne. He walked directly in, standing stiffly, "If you win and are responsible for her death, I'll kill you myself, got it?"

My eyes widened as I nodded.

"Good. If you're coming back without her, it'd be better if you just don't."

"Gale, I will be doing everything I can to keep her alive. You're not the only one who cares about her."

His scowl deepened, "Don't pretend you have any idea of how much I care about her. You don't know her."

And then he too turned around and slammed the door behind him.

After that odd meeting, a friend or two came to see me. I looked at the clock and realized my time was almost up. My mother just wasn't coming, was she? I didn't even know why I was surprised.

As I accepted this, the door swung open and there she was in the doorway. Looking as stern faced and hateful as ever.

There was an awkward silence as we both just stared at each other. Finally…"You're strong, Peeta. Don't act like a soft little weakling in there. Don't embarrass us."

I just stared at her, having no words.

She stepped forward to hug me but seemed to think better of it, "District 12 might finally have a winner."

I looked up, shocked that my mother actually believed that much in me, but then she finished her sentence, "That girl. She's a tough one."

I felt like snapping at her that that tough girl would be dead if it weren't for me, but I kept quiet.

"Have fun, Peeta." My mother said in a way that could only be mocking.

And then without another word, she walked out of the room. As the door slammed behind her, the tears I had bitten back my entire life flew freely from my eyes. What did it matter anymore? I was a dead man anyway.


	5. Chapter 5: Journey

Chapter 5: Journey to the Capitol

After all the visiting had ended, we were escorted out to a car, something I had ridden in only a handful of times before. Where it was taking us, the train station, however, I had never even stepped foot in. Most people hadn't. It was covered in TV screens, showing live footage of Katniss and I, mostly Katniss. She had already become a media frenzy just by being a volunteer. She wore a consistently bored expression on her face as if absolutely anything could be happening and she wouldn't care.

I knew you could see on my face that I'd been crying and I could tell by her expression as she stared at me that she was trying to figure out why I wasn't trying to hide it. But it didn't matter. The television screens didn't care about the broad-shouldered average boy. They cared about the girl beside me; showing her volunteering over and over again, the one time she seemed to reveal the emotion she was feeling.

After the cameras had gotten their last look at us until we got to the capitol, we were shown onto the train and into our separate chambers. Effie informed both of us that we were more than welcome to do whatever we liked but to make sure we were ready for dinner in exactly an hour.

I spent the hour trying to pull myself together and staring out the window. An hour on the dot, I walked out of my room and down the hall that Effie had indicated would lead to the dining area of the train. The room was empty but there was a table set for a meal with 4 empty chairs that I assumed was intended for us. I took one of the empty seats and sat stiffly.

About 5 minutes later, I heard Effie's high-pitched tone coming towards the room. Her pink hair came bouncing in a moment later, with Katniss just a few steps behind her. She had changed into a dark green shirt with black slacks, her hair still up, but the thing I noticed first was a gold pin. It's small but I can see it. A little bird inside a ring. The bird, I was sure, was a mockingjay. A bird that had come from the reproduction of mockingbirds and a failed experiment of the capitols called jabberjays. Because of that mockingjays were a sort of slap in the face to the Capitol, which I assumed was the reason Katniss was wearing it. And very fitting to what I knew of her personality it was too.

"Where's Haymitch?" Effie asked me.

"Last time I saw him, he said he was going to go take a nap, but that was right after he showed me my room."

"Well, it has been an exhausting day," she responded sounding relieved that he wasn't there.

The supper was multiple courses and despite Effie's warnings to take it slow, Katniss couldn't seem to and I wasn't much better. Working in a bakery, I had access to food, but most of it we weren't allowed to eat.

"Well, at least you two have decent manners. The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion."

I saw Katniss tense up beside me. I remembered that the two kids from last year were also from the Seam; she may have knew them or at least just knew the kind of life they must have lived. I noticed that after that Katniss started eating just with her hands and used the tablecloth as a napkin. Both Effie and I pursed our lips together. Effie, I'm sure, to bite her tongue from saying something rude, I was doing it to try and bite back the smile that was threatening to show.

After the meal ended, I realized the food was far too rich and both Katniss and I were struggling to keep it down, but thankfully we had distraction. They made us go to another compartment to watch a recap of all the reapings from the day to see the people we would be forced to go up against.

I tried not to pay attention to most of it, I didn't want to see the people that would be trying to kill us, the people I would have to fend off to keep us both alive. Finally District 12 starts playing and we get to watch Haymitch falling off the stage all over again. The commentators on the program groan loudly and Effie huffs in her seat.

"Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about televised behavior."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Effie, he was drunk. He's drunk every year."

"Every day." Katniss pointed out with a smirk.

"Yes." Effie hisses unhappily. "How odd you two find that amusing. You know your mentor is your lifeline to the world in the Games. The one who advises you, lines up your sponsors, and dictates the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can very well be the difference between your life and your death!"

As she finished, Haymitch staggered in slurring, "I miss supper?" then promptly vomited all over the floor and carpet, collapsing in his own mess.

"So laugh away!" Effie finished as she stormed out of the room, her heels clicking loudly against the floor.

Katniss and I stood there staring at Hamitch on the floor for a few moments. We both step forward and help Haymitch to his feet.

"Come on, let's get you back to your room. Clean you up a bit."

Together we half-lead, half-carry him back to his compartment. We take him straight to the bathroom and drop him roughly in the tub spraying the shower head straight on him.

Katniss stood there awkwardly for a moment, "It's okay," I assured her, "I can take it from here."

She gave me a grateful glance, "Al right. I can send one of the Capitol people to help you." She offered hesitantly.

"No." I said harsher than I intended, "I don't want them."

She nodded and headed straight out of the room.

I managed to get Haymitch cleaned up and into his bed before he completely passed out. After I was sure he was out, I dug through his room a bit and took the alcohol bottles I could find and poured them down the drain. If there was any chance of him being helpful, he was going to have to be somewhat sober first.

After leaving Haymitch's room, I thought about finding Katniss but thought better of it and headed to my own compartment. The next day we'd arrive in the Capitol, it was better to get some sleep before that.

"Up, up, up!" I could hear Effie calling outside the doors. I got up and got ready for the day before heading back to the dining car. When I arrive in the car, Effie and Haymitch are having a heated debate about something, but stop immediately when I walk into the room. Haymitch leans over and slaps Effie on her lower back, just to get a rise out of her. She swears loudly and slowly gets softer but more vulgar as she went on. Haymitch continued to just chuckle by himself. I grabbed a roll and looked to the door as Katniss walks in.

"Sit down, sit down!" Haymitch yelled to both of us, motioning to the chairs across from him.

We eat our meal in complete silence. Effie because she's sulking, Haymitch because he's hungover, and Katniss and I because we're too busy eating.

After we finally finish, Katniss leans back in her chair, "You're supposed to give us advice." She says firmly to Haymitch.

"Here's some advice. Stay alive." Haymitch laughs. I'm glad Katniss brought the subject up because I had been thinking about this all night and I was not about to let Haymitch ruin her chances of survival.

"That's very funny." I snapped at Haymitch. He wasn't hungover, he was still drunk, and he was drinking more right now. Without thinking, I impulsively reached out and lashed at the glass in his hand, letting it shatter on the floor, "Only not to us."

Haymitch pauses for a moment, staring at the broken glass on the floor, then looks up and punches me straight in the jaw knocking me to the floor. As I regained my composure, I saw Katniss grab a knife and slam it inbetween Haymitch and the bottle he was reaching for barely missing his fingers. If he tried to hit her…but he didn't. He leaned back and glances at us both up and down.

"Well. What's this? Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?"

I walk over to the fruit bowl and grab ice from the bottom to apply to the mark I can feel bruising on my jaw.

"No." Haymitch reaches up swiping the ice from my hand, "Let the bruise show. The audience will think you're mixed it up with another tribute before the Games."

I considered this for a moment, "But that's against the rules."

"Only if they catch you. That bruise will say you fought, and you weren't caught, which is even better." He then turned to Katniss, "Can you hit anything with that knife besides a table?"

Without saying a word, Katniss yanks the knife out of the table and flings it across the room, it landing perfectly between two panels. I gasped, obviously impressed, I knew she was good with a bow, but I had never seen her throw a knife. Maybe she wouldn't need all that much protecting.

"Stand over there. Both of you." Haymitch orders. "Well, you aren't entirely hopeless. You both seem fit. And once the stylists get hold of you, you'll be attractive enough."

He pauses again, considering us longer, "All right. I'll make a deal with you. You don't interfere with my drinking," he gave a pointed look at me, "and promise I'll stay sober enough to help you. But you have to do exactly what I say. No questions asked."

"Fine." I snap.

Katniss doesn't seem satisfied yet, "So help us, when we get to the arena, what's the best strategy at the Cornupcopia for someone-"

"One thing at a time. In a few minutes, we'll be pulling into the station. You'll be put in the hands of your stylists. You're not going to like what they do to you. But no matter what it is, don't resist."

Katniss tries to protest, but Haymitch stops her, repeats his order and then walks out of the car. Katniss and I continued to stand there in complete silence as we realize we're in the tunnel headed to the Capitol. As light comes back into the car, we can hear the screams of the crowds watching for the trains. I walk to the window and see them all pointing and cheering for us. I started to smile and wave at those watching us. I drop the insincere smile as soon as we pull into the station and they can no longer see us.

When I turn around , I see Katniss giving me a weird look. I shrugged in response, "What? Who knows? One of those people may be rich." And one of them could very well help me keep you alive. But I wasn't about to tell her that.


	6. Chapter 6: The Girl Who Was On Fire

Sorry. I had a crazy weekend. Here's the next chapter.

Chapter 6: The Girl Who Was On Fire

It took me about 10 minutes in the presence of my design team to become convinced that any Capitol born was insane. Not that I didn't already thing that, but it really confirmed it for me.

That isn't to say they weren't nice. They were. Overly so. But they were giggly and overly cheerful as if they weren't preparing me for my death.

Every tribute received their own personal stylist. That stylist could choose up to three designing assistants. Those four people made up your design team. They were in charge of your outfit for the parading of tributes and your interview. They could make you memorable. Being memorable got you sponsors and airtime. And airtime could get you more sponsors. And sponsors could be the difference between life and death in the arena.

The second we had gotten off the train, Katniss and I were escorted into a huge building and led to our separate rooms where our design team introduced themselves and got to work.

My three introduced themselves as Oscar, Caraine, and Drell. Oscar seemed to be the oldest and most respected of the group, he was short and plump with hair so blue it was almost black. He didn't seem very striking until you looked him in the eye. One was the richest deepest blue I'd ever seen, the other so grey it was almost white, and surrounding them were little diamond sequins. It was tacky, but compared to the other two, he was very plain.

Caraine was as light as Oscar was dark. Ivory white skin with the sky blue eyes and lips that matched the hair cascading in waves down her back. She looked like she was suffering from hypothermia but her voice flowed like a breath of cool wind and her laugh was intoxicating

Drell was the biggest shock, though. He had neon red spikes that were at least 6 inches high with orange and black tips, giving the appearance of flames. His eyes were the same piercing orange as the tips in his hair, his ears were coated in hoops and studs, and as a final touch, his arms were completely covered in tattoos of flames. He looked like a walking bonfire.

Between the three of them fussing over me, stripping my body of any hair or dirt, it was all very overwhelming. They obviously meant well, but Oscar said what I knew they were all thinking, "I was hoping to get a winner this year, but at least we got a handsome one."

Finally I was left alone to wait for my stylist. About 10 minutes later, she came floating in. Her pale green hair was up and in ringlets with gold glitter streaks. With her light pink float-y outfit, everything about her seemed fairy like. Right down to her voice which was soft but chipper. "Peeta! I'm your stylist, Portia! Our names both start with P! Must be a match made in heaven!" Her laugh was like a little bell, as she continued her overly cheerful introduction, "My partner Cinna is working with your fellow tribute. We both decided we don't want to go overboard on your costumes, but I'll admit your district is a hard one to work with."

Every district's costumes were supposed to represent their district's specialty. Ours was coal. Usually our tributes ended up wearing skimpy coal miner outfits covered in black soot.

"Drell was actually the one that inspired Cinna to come up with the idea." But that was all the hint she gave me as she went to work on my makeup and hair. She assured me that the makeup would be subtle enough that no one would notice, it just had to make sure I didn't get drowned out in the lights of the parade.

"So the girl who volunteered…" she approached, "Did you know her before all this?"

"Um, yeah. I knew of her anyway."

Portia's hands lifted from my face and she plopped down in front of me. "Ohmy! Tell me everything!"

I frowned, "What are you talking about?"

"Don't be silly. I can see straight through you. Cinna will love this! We can work with this! The Games haven't had a romance in forever!"

"It's not a romance, Portia. We had never spoken until yesterday."

Portia looked like a pouting puppy, "Oh. But…your voice? I could hear it."

I sighed. I was going to be dead in a matter of weeks anyway, what was to stop me from telling her. "My dad was in love with her mom so he always pointed her out around town when we were little. So I always sort of kept an eye on her. She's intriguing, interesting, and independent. I find her interesting. I like the way she carries herself, the way she can handle anything life throws at her without losing control. I respect her. I like her. And I will not let her die."

Portia beamed, but I cut her off, "But she can't know, so you can't tell Cinna."

She sighed, "Okay." She stood back up, "So what does your family do? Are they miners?"

I chuckled, "No, not at all. My father runs the bakery in town."

Portia's beam returned, "So you're used to flames? Perfect!"

About three hour later, I was standing back stage where the chariots were lined up in a black unitard with high leather boots and a cape of red, orange, and yellow strips that Portia said they were going to light on fire.

I'm relieved to see Katniss looking as worried as I was about this whole idea as they arranged us how they wanted us on the chariot.

"What do you think?" Katniss whispered. "About the fire?"

Her cool breath on my neck made it difficult to focus on our impending doom, but I clenched my teeth, "I'll rip off your cap if you'll rip off mine."

"Deal. I know we promised Haymitch we'd do exactly what they said but…I don't think he considered this angle."

I glance around slightly, "Where is Haymitch anyway? Isn't he supposed to protect us from this sort of thing?"

"With all that alcohol in him, it's probably no advisable to have him around an open flame."

She said it so evenly, I almost didn't realize it was a joke at first. But suddenly we were both laughing hysterically. Probably mostly because we were terrified that we were both going to go up in flames before we even stepped foot in the arena.

As the music begins, the chariots start to process out one by one. As District 11 processes out, Cinna hops up onto the chariot, "Here we go then," Before giving us a chance to react, he lights our capes and headdresses on fire. Oddly enough, I don't feel any warmth and based on my glance at Katniss, she was just as surprised as I was. "It works!" Cinna breathed a sigh of relief, "Remember. Heads high. Smiles. They're going to love you!"

As the chariot starts to move, he yells one more thing that I barely catch, "…hands…together…up."

"What's he saying?" Katniss asks. I look over at her and she's stunning. The flames behind her have enlightened her already stunning features.

"I think he said for us to hold hands." I grab her hand and look back at Cinna for confirmation. He nods and gives a thumbs up right before we enter the city.

It takes the crowd a second to react. But soon everyone is looking at us; the camera view on the screen is completely ignoring the three chariots in front of us. On the TV screen, our look is even more illuminating.

I smile and wave at the crowd and they seem to be going wild. But it isn't for me. Katniss beside me seems to have left her walls behind, she's smiling, waving, and blowing kisses to the crowd. We're having flowers thrown at us, the crowd is screaming our names, and Katniss is squeezing my hand hard enough to cut off the circulation.

The crowd was never going to forget us, especially her. For the first time, I actually felt a surge of hope that I really might be able to save her life.

As we entered the circle with the rest of the tributes, Katniss started to let go of my hand. It was then I realized how shaky I was and how desperately I didn't want her to let go, "No. Don't let go of me." She looks over startled, "Please. I might fall out of this thing."

"Okay." She responded simply and regained her grip on my hand. The President of Panem does his normal welcome speech to begin the games, the anthem played, and the cameras did one more hold on us before we paraded into the Training Center and the gates slammed behind us.

We were instantly swarmed by our prep teams, babbling about how amazing we looked, how memorable we'd be, how impressed they were. The other tributes are glaring at us, but they all wanted us dead anyway, so what did it matter if we started the hated early? Katniss was still clutching my hand as Cinna and Portia help us out of the chariot and put out the flames that miraculously seemed to have no effect on our skin at all.

Finally Katniss loosens her grip and I let her this time, "Thanks for keeping hold of me. I was feeling a little shaky out there."

Katniss narrowed her eyes, "It didn't show. I'm sure no one noticed."

"I'm sure they didn't notice anything but you." I said completely honestly, "You should wear flames more often, they suit you." I smile at her, forgetting that I should be hiding the feelings I have, but still nervous about complimenting the tough girl who could probably kill me in a few blows if she wanted.

Her facial expression seemed shocked by the compliment. At first I thought she was just going to turn away without saying anything, but instead she takes a step closer and kisses my cheek. It was only a second, but I could feel the tingle lingering where my bruise from Haymitch's punch was. She gave me a smile and then turned to talk to Cinna.

Oh yeah. I'm gone. I'll kill anyone who even looks at her in the arena.


	7. Chapter 7: The Roof

I've been SO busy lately, I haven't had any time to even look at the reviews. I'm glad you're all enjoying the story. I've been out of town and working and school starts on Monday. =X But I wrote this up quickly. Next chapter will be of their Training Sessions. I'm excited to write it. =D That should hopefully be up by the latest Tuesday night.

Chapter 7:

Immediately following the festivities, we were escorted back to the Training Center. This was a huge building devoted to housing the tributes and their teams. Every district had their own floor, so naturally our floor was the top one; 12.

The elevator was nice and the view was fantastic, but I was too busy touching the bruise trying to retain the feeling of Katniss' light kiss and trying to drown out Effie's endless gushing of how "fabulous" we both were.

"You two don't even know! Everyone's talking about you!" she went on and on. I tried to catch Katniss's eye but she was too busy looking out the clear elevator windows. Effie kept going on about something to do with coal and diamonds. Whatever it was, I was sure it was wrong, so I continued to think about anything but her high-pitched voice.

When we got up to our floor, Katniss and I both immediately went to our quarters. I quickly showered, but after the scrubbing I had gotten from my design team earlier that day, I wasn't eager to go to in depth with it.

When I had dressed, I left the room and both Portia and Cinna were there to congratulate me on how well we did. Portia's green locks were down now, hanging loosely at her sides still covered in gold glitter, she was practically shining and the shine continued to her beaming expression, "You two were marvelous." She drew me into a hug and kissed both cheeks. Cinna clapped me on the back, "I'm glad you caught on to the hand holding. It was the perfect touch."

A few moments later, Katniss came out of her room with Effie and Cinna and Portia turned their attention to her, but I didn't mind. Effie was trying to escort us all into the dining room to eat dinner and I was sure I wasn't the only one who was starving.

Haymitch actually managed to join us for dinner, looking clean shaven and as sober as I had ever seen him in my entire knowledge of his existence. Everyone at the table seemed more interested in talking than eating; Katniss and I being the exceptions. I'm not sure either of us were paying much attention to the conversation.

Katniss's voice catches my attention though, "Oh! I know you!"

The entire table goes completely quiet until Effie snaps, "Don't be ridiculous, Katniss. How you could you possibly know an Avox? The very thought!"

Katniss and I exchange confused glances across the table, I'm glad she asks the question "What's an Avox?".

"Someone who committed a crime." Haymitch answers. "They cut her tongue out so she can't speak. She's probably a traitor of some sort. Not likely you'd know her."

"And even if you did, you're not to speak to one of them unless it's to give an order. Of course you don't really know her." Effie huffed.

I can tell my Katniss's expression that she isn't satisfied, she's still certain she knows her. She reached for a glass of wine and tried to cover her tracks, "No, I guess not. I just tho-"

I couldn't take it, I jumped in to save her snapping my fingers, "Delly Cartweight! That's who it is. I kept thinking she looked familiar as well."

Katniss caught on right away. Delly looked nothing like the girl standing nearby, but it was an easy way to release the tension, "Of course! That's who I was thinking of. It must be the hair."

I smile, "Something about the eyes too."

You could nearly see the tension disperse around the table. Everyone dug into the cake the girl had brought in and then we were escorted into the next room to watch the opening ceremonies for ourselves. We really are as stunning as everyone has gushed and the hand holding gives us a little extra something different. A united front against the capitol opposed to the other pairs of tributes who stand stiffly as if the tribute beside them is already their enemy.

Haymitch takes us aside and lets us know the training session is in the morning and that we should get some sleep. After we both walk down the hallway to our rooms, I lean up against her door. She could squeeze by if she wanted but I knew she wouldn't, "So. Delly Cartwright. Imagine finding her lookalike here."

She hesitates for a long time but I could tell she knew what I was really asking. She glanced around her and I immediately took the hint, "Have you seen the roof yet? You can see the whole city from up there."

"Can we just go up?"

"Sure, come on."

I lead her to a flight of stairs out into the cool air, the view is as breathtaking now as it was earlier when Cinna had showed me the first time.

"I asked Cinna why they let us up here. Weren't they worried that some of the tributes might decide to jump over the side?"

"What'd he say?"

"You can't." I demonstrate by putting my hand out allowing myself to get electrocuted, "Electric field will throw you back on the roof."

She rolls her eyes, "Always worried about our safety. Do you think they're watching us?"

I shrug, "Maybe. Come see the garden."

I lead her to the other side of the roof where there's flower beds, trees, and most importantly wind chimes. The wind and the chimes cause enough noise that I was certain it would drown out anything Katniss would say.

She bends down to look at a flower closely, but murmuring quietly too, "We were hunting in the woods. Hidden, waiting for game."

"You and your father?"

"No, my friend Gale." I tensed at the name but tried to play it cool, "Suddenly all the birds stopped singing at once."

She went on to tell me the story of the Avox girl and the boy who was with her. A hovercraft had appeared, the boy died and the girl was sucked up into the vehicle.

I noticed her shudder, "Hey, you're shivering." I took off my jacket to wrap around her shoulders. "They were from here?"

Katniss nodded, "I don't know where they were headed. Or why they'd leave here."

"I'd leave here." I said impulsively, "I'd go home now if they let me." I pause for a second, "But you have to admit, the food is prime." I added just to cover my tracks in case we were overheard.

"It's getting chilly, we better go in." As we step inside, I have one more question, but I made sure to be extra casual, "Your friend Gale. He's the one who took your sister away at the reaping?"

Katniss nodded, "Do you know him?"

"Not really. I hear the girls talk about him a lot. I thought he was your cousin or something. You favor each other." I say as if it is a fact rather than a question.

"We're not related." Is all the response I receive.

"Did he come say goodbye to you?" still cool as ice.

"Yes." She examines me closely, "so did your rather. He brought me cookies.

"Well. He likes you and your sister. I think he often wishes he had a daughter instead of a house of boys." I pause wondering if she knows anything about my father, so I carefully add, "He knew your mother when they were kids."

Katniss was the cool one now, "Oh, yes, she grew up in town."

We walk in silence for a moment as we reach her door. She hands me back my jacket, "See you in the morning then I guess."

"See you." I respond, still as coolly as I can. The Gale conversation put me on edge, although I had absolutely no right to care. I knew they spent all their time together. I'm not sure why I was even surprised she didn't quickly deny the rumor of them being together. Of course they were. It made sense.

I laid down on the soft bed and felt the tension in my shoulders release. I couldn't obsess over her. I wasn't going to live through the Games anyway. She was if I could do anything about it. So it was good that I knew she had someone to go back to that could take care of her. Or at least…that's what I needed to keep telling myself.


	8. Chapter 8: The Fight

SasaRae: I update as often as I can, which is less frequently now that I'm in school full time again.

everyone else: Thank you so much! I'm so glad you all enjoy it so much. I like writing it.

Here's what I got done instead of doing homework tonight. If I get my homework done, I'll write more of the training, but for now, here's what you get. ;)

Chapter 8: A Fight

Morning seemed like such a long time away, but when I finally managed to slip off to sleep, it came far too quickly. I managed to drag myself out of bed and get into the outfit that Portia must have laid out for me.

As I walked out of my room in search of food, I met Haymitch in the hallway who grunted in greeting as we both made our way to the dining room. When we arrived, Katniss was already seated at the table wearing an identical outfit to mine, her hair back in a single braid, looking very much like she did every other day at home.

After all three of us had choked down some food, Haymitch took a long swig from a flask that he had stashed in his pocket. He sighed and leaned toward us on the table, "So, let's get down to business. Training. First off, I'll train you both separately if you like. Decide now."

Katniss glances at me and all I can do is shrug, "Why would you coach us separately?" she asked.

"Say if you had a secret skill you didn't want the other to know about."

She looks over at me again, "I don't have any secret skills," I admit, "And I already know yours, right? I mean, I've eaten enough of your squirrels."

Katniss looked surprised but nodded and turned to Haymitch, "You can coach us together."

Haymitch looked pleased; less work for him I suppose, "Alright, so give me an idea of what you can do."

I shrugged, "I can't do anything, unless you count baking bread."

Haymitch rolled his eyes, "Sorry, I don't. Katniss, what about you? I already know you're handy with a knife."

"Not really, but I can hunt. With a bow and arrow."

"And you're good?"

Katniss paused for a long moment, "I'm alright."

I scoffed loudly, "She's excellent. My father buys her squirrels. Always comments on how she never pierces the body. She hits every single one in the eye. It's the same with the rabbits she sells the butcher. She even takes down deer."

I turned to look at her to see her glaring suspiciously, "What are you doing?"

I cock an eyebrow at her, "What are YOU doing? If he's going to help you, he has to know what you're capable of. Don't underrate yourself."

I see the fire immediately leap into her eyes, "What about you?!" she demands, "I've seen you in the market. You can lift 100lb bags of flour! Tell him that! That's not nothing!"

I scoff, "Yes, and I'm sure the arena will be FULL of bags of flour I can chuck at people. It's not like being able to use a weapon, You know it isn't."

She turns to Haymitch now, "He can wrestle. He came in second in our school competition last year, only after his brother."

This was actually true. It has been a year before and Clark had beat me by a landslide but I had creamed Gavin and…anyone else who tried to go up against me actually. But, really, "What use is that? How many times have you seen someone wrestle someone to death?"

"There's always hand to hand combat." She said fiercely, "All you need is to come up with a knife, and you'll at least stand a chance. If I get jumped, I'm dead!" Her voice was rising in anger and I could feel my own frustration rising in response.

"But you won't!" I shouted, "You'll be living up in some tree eating raw squirrels and picking off people with arrows." I hesitated not sure if I should continue, but I was too riled up to stop now, "You know what my mother said to me when she came to say goodbye, as if to cheer me up, she says maybe District Twelve will finally have a winner. Then I realized…she didn't mean me, she meant you!"

Katniss rolled her eyes, "Oh, she went you."

"She said, 'she's a survivor, that one.' SHE is."

Katniss opened her mouth to shout something back, but then closed it again and was quiet. Then almost too quietly to hear, "But only because someone helped me."

I glanced at her sharply, then at the roll in her hand, knowing she meant the day when I gave her bread. But that was irrelevant now. She had lived on her own since. She didn't need me in the arena, I don't know why I thought I'd be able to keep her alive. If anything, my help would get her killed faster. I'd be better off just leaving her alone. But I didn't any of that. I just shrugged, "People will help you in the arena. They'll be tripping over each other to sponsor you."

"No more than you." She immediately countered.

This I had to roll my eyes at. I couldn't even speak to her anymore, instead I turned to Haymitch, "She has no idea the effect she can have."

I glanced at Katniss out of the corner of my eye as she glared at the roll in her heads. Mad, at me, I'm sure, for saving her all those years ago, for boasting about her talents now, for trying to help her out, who knows for what exactly. All I knew is the grey eyed girl beside me was frustrating as hell.

There was an impossibly long moment of silence before Haymitch seemed to realize we had stopped yelling and tuned back in, "Well, then. Well, well, well. Katniss, there's no guarantee there will be bows and arrows in the arena, but during your private session with the Gamemakers, show them what you can do. Until then, stay clear of archery. Are you any good at trapping?"

She muttered some response that I couldn't hear, then he was talking to me, "Peeta, she's right, never underestimate strength in the arena. Very often, physical power tilts the advantage to a player."

Haymitch went on for a moment about strategy, telling us to steer clear of our talents, but to focus on things we DIDN'T know. We both nodded.

"One last thing. In public, I want you by each other's side every minute."

"But-" I start at the same time as Katniss snaps "Why?"

"EVERY MINUTE. It isn't open for discussion. You agreed to do what I said. You will be together, you will appear amiable to each other. Now get out. Meet Effie in the elevator at 10."

Katniss slammed her chair back from the table and stalked off to her room, loudly slamming her door behind her. I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair. When I look up, Haymitch is studying me closely. "What?"I snap.

He shakes his head and is silent for a long moment, "I'm just trying to think of a good strategy for you."

"It isn't going to matter. Katniss will win. Or at least, outlive me."

Haymitch's eyes narrow, "Why are you so set on her surviving?"

I could feel my face flush, "Her family needs her more than mine does. And she has a better shot."

Haymitch smirked, "Mmhm. We can work with that."

"With what?" I asked innocently.

Haymitch's smirk widened as he took a long swig from his flask, "Yes. We can definitely work with that."

He turned before stepping out of the room, "Remember. Every minute. But that isn't much of a punishment for you, is it now?" and like that, he walked out of the room.


	9. Chapter 9: Training with Tributes

Baaah, sorry guys, so busy. Here's an extra long chapter! =D

Chapter 9: Training with Tributes

A half an hour later, Katniss and I were standing in the elevator with Effie headed down to the training floor. When we arrive, they pin our district number on to our backs and I glanced around noticing Katniss and I were not only the last to arrive but also stuck out as the only ones dressed alike.

A woman starts explaining how the training was going to work, giving examples of some of the stations. We are not allowed to compete with any of the other tributes, instead assistants and dummies are provided for practice. Similarly to Katniss beside me, I can't help but glance around at all the people who are going to try to kill us. The males especially are bigger, obviously stronger, than both she and I combined. For the first time, I'm starting to doubt my ability to keep her alive in that arena.

The tributes from districts 1, 2, and 4 are referred to as Careers by most of the poorer districts. They're trained for this. And they're looking at both of us like we're pieces of meat to be devoured.

I nudged Katniss's arm causing her to jump, "Where would you like to start?"

"Suppose we tie some knots?"

I nod and follow her over to the knot-tying station. We learn to tie knots, to make traps, finally I suggest camouflage. When we head over there, the instructor shows both of us how to use mud, leaves, berries, and other things we might find in the arena to make us blend in with nature. I work carefully and patiently with the materials she provided. For the first time all day, I feel comfortable with what I'm working on. It's just like being at home frosting cakes. I can almost imagine that's where I am. Who would have ever thought I'd miss home.

"I do the cakes." I mention conversationally to Katniss.

She jumped a little and I noticed she wasn't watching me, she was watching someone past me, "The cakes. What cakes?"

"At home. The iced ones, for the bakery."

Her eyes cleared a little with understanding, then clouded again with irritation. Irritation with what, I have no idea. "It's lovely. If only you could frost someone to death."

I tried not to take the sarcasm personally, "Don't be so superior. You can never tell what you'll find in the arena. Say it's actually a gigantic cak-"

"Say we move on." She interrupted.

I bit my tongue and just nodded.

The Game Makers were constantly watching and Katniss and I tried our best to seem average at everything. We both excelled at a few random things, but we avoided archery and weightlifting just like Haymitch had told us.

As if dealing with the judgmental looks from the other tributes wasn't hard enough, Katniss and I still need to seem amiable to each other. We try to keep up friendly conversation, but it doesn't take long for us to completely run out of things to talk about. On the second day, I gave her a lesson on the breads from different districts, she would laugh as if I were being funny, I would smile and nod at her responses. This is where being enamored with her came in handy. I was genuinely interested in everything she had to say, so I had the fortune of not having to act. But even still, ever since our fight the first morning, neither of us had been able to manage much amiability. Her, I suppose because she held a grudge, me because…I didn't even know, I just wanted to keep my distance.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I was chased by a bear?"

"No, but it sounds fascinating." I knew this was exhausting both of us.

"Well, one day I was hunting by myself. Back before my father died, but he couldn't come. He was busy in the mines. I wasn't supposed to be out by myself, but…I didn't listen."

I smiled, "Why am I not surprised?"

She chuckled, "Well, I found a beehive. And I guess the bear wanted it too."

I laughed out loud this time. I asked questions on cue, she would smile and laugh, I would respond the same. We made the story last the rest of lunch and then moved on to spear throwing.

I noticed the small girl from District 11 following us. I nudged Katniss, "I think we have a shadow, I think her name is Rue." I whispered.

"What do we do about it?"

Her harshness surprised me, "Nothing to do. Just making conversation."

The rest of our day is fairly quiet. The second we arrive on our floor, we're interrogated and prodded for information from Effie and Haymitch. They've teamed up now, both instructing us to death. I try to remain patient with them, but Katniss doesn't even try.

On the second night, I murmur to Katniss as we walk to our rooms that someone should get Hamyitch a drink. She started to chuckle then stopped and looked me in the eye, "Don't. Don't let's pretend when there's no one around."

I sighed, "All right, Katniss. Whatever you want."

The third and final day of training finally arrived. They started private sessions after lunch. They go in order of district, first the male, then the female. By the time it's my turn, the room is empty except for Katniss. When they call my name and I stand up, Katniss surprises me by speaking, "Remember what Haymitch said about being sure to throw the weights."

"Thanks. I will. You…shoot straight."

_Shoot straight. _I mentally hit myself. I must have sounded like an idiot. But I had to shake that feeling. I was walking into the room with the Game Makers. They look bored out of their mind. I started with smaller weights, moving on to bigger ones, but it didn't seem to matter. They were all being served some sort of drink and they all broke into some song about how glad they were to be drinking it. I bit my lip and continued to be respectful until they finally dismissed me. I thanked them and strode out of the room trying to contain my frustration. I hoped Katniss had better luck.

Katniss arrived on our floor about a half an hour after I did. We were all just making small talk in the living room; they wanted to wait to discuss the private sessions until we were both there, but they didn't even have the chance. The second she got to the floor, she flew to her room, slamming her door behind her, almost fast enough that I didn't see her tears but not quite.

Haymitch and Effie take turns trying to knock on her door, but to no avail. Haymitch finally suggested it I try. I hesitate but went to do as he asked. I lean close to the door first and can hear her crying. I stand there for a long moment just listening to her staggered breaths and choking sobs. I want to go in to her room, comfort her, pat her hair and tell her that everything is going to be fine. But I know better. I know I can't do that. For the sake of both of us. Instead I walk back to the living room and shrug before I sit back down.

Finally Effie goes to bring Katniss to dinner, "She has to come out sooner or later, so she may as well come out now."

Even with Effie's determination, I'm a little surprised to see Katniss come out behind her looking emotionless as always. After she sits down across from me, I try to catch her eye. When I finally do, I raise an eyebrow at her, trying to ask her silently what happened. All she does is shake her head in response.

After we've began our meal, Haymitch finally speaks, "Okay, enough, just how bad were you today?"

I look over at Katniss and decide to go first, "I don't know that it mattered how good or bad we were. By the time I showed up, no one even bothered to look at me. They were singing some song. So I threw around some heavy objects until they told me I could go."

"And you, sweetheart?" Haymitch turns.

Katniss's expression soured at the name calling, "I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers."

I immediately dropped my eating utensil and I wasn't the only one. "You WHAT?"

"I shot an arrow at them. Well…not exactly AT them. In their direction. It was like Peeta said, I was shooting and they were ignoring me and I just…I just lost my head, so I shot an apple out of their stupid roast pig's mouth!"

Cinna was the first to break the silence, "And what did tey say?"

"Nothing. Or…I don't know. I walked out after that."

Effie gasped again, "Without being dismissed?"

"I dismissed myself."

I am trying so hard not to smile. I know this is a serious situation. I know Katniss may have just messed everything up for herself. But it's just so like her I can hardly even be surprised. And under any other circumstances, it'd just make me like her more.

"Well. That's that."

"Do you think they'll arrest me?" she asked.

"Doubt it. It'd be too much of a pain to replace you at this stage." Haymitch answered.

"What about my family? Will they punish them?" Even now, she's only concerned for her family. That's why she needed it to survive.

"Don't think so. Wouldn't make much sense. They'd have to reveal what happened for it to make a worthwhile effect on the population. More likely they'll just make your life hell in the arena."

"Well, they've already promised to do that to all of us anyway." I point out.

Haymitch nods, "Very true." Then he starts to chuckle in spite of himself, "What were their faces like?"

"Shocked. Terrified. Uh, ridiculous some of them. One man tripped backwards into a bowl of punch."

Everyone starts openly laughing now, except Effie, "Well, it does serve them right. It's their job to pay attention to you. And just because you come from District Twelve is no excuse to ignore you. That's just what I think."

Katniss frowns, "I'll get a bad score."

"Scores only matter if they're very good, no one pays attention to the bad or mediocre ones. For all they know you could purposely be hiding your talents." Portia assured her.

"I hope that's how they interpret the four I'll probably get." I say in an effort to cheer Katniss up, "If that. Really, is anything less impressive than watching a person pick up a heavy ball and throw it a few yards. I almost dropped one on my foot."

I'm rewarded with a grin from Katniss and everyone continues eating.

After dinner we get to see all the scores on the television. The scores go between 1 and 12 and they don't mean a whole lot. They help with sponsors more than anything else and the poorer your district, the more important that score can mean. The Careers all get around 9s as expected, the others average about a 5. I can't hide my surprise when they flash an 8 next to my name, but everyone is anxiously awaiting Katniss's score. The gasps and squeals through the room are immediate when an 11 flashes on the screen. Everyone's congratulating both of us. My first instinct is to hug her, but I resist.

"there must be a mistake. How…how could that happen?"

Haymitch smiled, "Guess they liked your temper. They've got a show to put on. They need some players with heat."

"Katniss, the girl who was on fire." Cinna smiles and gives her a huge hug, for a brief moment I'm incredibly jealous.

"Hey, great job." I smile at Katniss. She smiles back, "Thanks, you too." But underneath both our smiles was the tang of awkwardness.

After the congratulating had ended, both Katniss and I excused ourselves and headed to our own rooms. The next day was a bit of a day off from televised events, but we would spend the whole day training with Effie and Haymitch for our interviews. I had been thinking a lot about this. I needed to make sure I got up before Katniss. I had to speak to Haymitch alone.

The next morning, I arose super early, hoping to catch Effie and Haymitch. Thankfully Haymitch was seated at the table with his flask when I walked out to the dining room. "You're up early." He remarks.

"I need to talk to you."

He motions for me to sit down across from him, "I need to talk about my interview strategy. Or…rather, Katniss's."

Haymitch frowns, "She's not very likable on the surface."

I nod, "That's my point. She needs to be likable. They need to like her. They need to want to help her. I can't do it myself. Not with how big the other tributes are."

Haymitch leans back in his chair, "So you want your strategy to help her more than to help you?"

I hesitate for a second then nod.

Haymitch ponders this for a moment, "We can do that. But she won't allow it."

"Then you'll have to train us separately."

"She won't be happy about that sudden change."

"I can deal with that. I'll be dead soon anyway."

Haymitch's eyes narrowed, "Cynical."

"If the games end how I want them to, I have to be dead."

"Fair enough."

Effie entered at that moment and Haymitch explained that interview coaching will be easier done separately.

Finally Katniss arrives and sits down across from me. I avoid her eyes as best I can, pretending to be very focused by the food in front of me.

"So, what's going on? You're coaching us on interviews today right?"

Haymitch nodded, "That's right." I can tell by his tone, even he doesn't want to share the change with Katniss.

"You don't have to wait till I'm done. I can listen and eat at the same time."

"Well. There's been a change in plans. About our current approach."

"What's that?"

Haymitch shrugs casually and looks at the flask in his hand, "Peeta has asked to be coached separately."

I look up long enough to see fire leap into her eyes, but they're only there for a second before going back to emotionless. "Oh. Cool."

She will never speak to me again.


	10. Chapter 10: The Interview

Oh my goodness, I am so sorry! I have been so busy lately. =X

Here's a really quick chapter. I'll get Peeta's interview up in the next few days (hopefully tomorrow, fingers crossed) and then we're on to the games!

Chapter 10: Interviews

I tried to keep the constant cringing off my face as Katniss discussed the schedule with Haymitch and Effie and I didn't even try to hold back my sigh of relief when they dismissed us for a half an hour before training. As we walked to our rooms, I tried to catch her eye, to offer some sort of explanation even though I knew I couldn't give her a real one. But her icy glare was enough to shut me up and cause anger of my own. She had no idea I was trying to help her! Why did she have to jump to such awful conclusions all the time? This is for the best!

But she'd know that soon enough.

My first four hours of training were to be spent with Haymitch going over strategy and what I should (and shouldn't) say.

When I walked in, he was seating, staring straight forward, sipping what actually seemed to be lemon water; the first non-alcoholic thing I had seen him drink all…well, forever. I sat down across from him, waiting for him to begin, but he remained quiet for quite some time.

Finally, "So you want to save the girl, right?"

I nod without a second thought.

"Okay. Well. We have to make her likable and she isn't going to make that easy."

I nod again.

"I think the best strategy is the truth."

I remained silent for a moment, "The truth?"

"You know, just be completely honest with them. Tell them exactly how you feel about her. But add a little more to it. Make her seem desirable. We want people to think everyone loves her, but even just the sympathy of your feelings for her will do loads of good."

"Who's to say any of that is truthful?"

Haymitch laughed out loud at me, "If that's what you want to believe. But I think you know what you have to do. Just follow your gut."

Haymitch and I spent the next 3 hours discussing and practicing. He'd ask me questions, I'd do my best to answer them. The training, as a whole, went pretty well. Haymitch said that not only was I making Katniss seem desirable and more likably, I was making myself seem pitiful and adorable, something that would help me out with the audience as well.

By the time we went to lunch, we were both pretty cheerful and confident, even Katniss's sour, angry expression didn't spoil my meal. I was convinced I was going to save her and even if she didn't know it yet, she would appreciate me for it someday.

The next four hours were less entertaining. Effie spent them all trying to show me how to walk, talk, and present myself in a "professional, non-barbaric manner" as she put it. I spent much of the time rolling my eyes and mocking her every time she turned her back.

Dinner that night was quiet, Katniss spent the evening in her room, Effie kept prattling about proper behavior and how Katniss doesn't have any. Haymitch just seemed exhausted and didn't eat much dinner either. Before he left the room, he put his hand on my shoulder, "It's a good thing she has you or that girl would be done for."

The next morning, we were immediately sent to our design teams who spent the entire day fussing over us, but before long it was time to meet up with the rest of our group and get in line for interviews.

When Katniss arrived with Cinna, I again immediately lost all sense of voice. What was speaking? What were words? I'm sure I didn't have a clue at the time. Her dress, of course, is wonderfully gorgeous. Cinna really is a genius. But it isn't her dress. It's her. Everything about her is just stunning. Portia nudges me in the side and I quickly pick my jaw up off the floor and go back to being cold toward her like I had been.

Haymitch comes up behind us nudging both of us closer together, "Remember, you're still a happy pair so act like it."

This is easy enough for me, of course, my entire strategy relies on me expressing how I feel about the girl standing beside me. Katniss however looks pained.

The interviews start before long, every tribute having their own specific strategy from over-confident, to sexy, to sly, to killing machine, to just intimidating based on pure size and not personality at all. Katniss gets to go before me, "ladies first" of course, and I feel myself start to shake on her benefit. She just has to stay civil and I can do the rest, but if she snaps, or says something completely out of place, my plan won't have any chance of working.

Thankfully she is far more charming than I think Haymitch gave her credit for. She's clever and enchanting, but that could just be my bias talking. When she spun around in her dress, she looked like a fiery goddess and I knew she had the whole audience's attention. This was going to be far easier than I thought.


	11. Chapter 11: The Confession

As Katniss continued to charm the audience, I zoned out, focused on my own goal. I heard bits and pieces of the rest of her interview. I heard Caesar ask about her training score and her sister. Soon enough she was exiting the stage with a smile. They made me wait a minute to take the stage for the applause to subside, but finally they give me the go ahead. I look out and Haymitch gives me a nod. We both know that Katniss has set everything up perfectly without even knowing.

I began to run Haymitch's rules through my head as the interview began. _Rule 1: Don't bring it up. Caesar loves gossiping. He'll ask. Be trivial first. _"What's the first observation you've made about the other tributes, Peeta?" Caesar begins.

Be trivial. Be trivial. "Well, my parents are bakers, so I guess the first thing I noticed is how similar they are to their districts' bread type."

The audience gave a chuckle at that and Caesar asked me to explain. "Well, like District 3. Their bread is these small, bite-sized pieces, angled in shape, but really filling. The tributes are kind of like that. They're both small and angular, but I bet both can really pack a punch." I continue with District 2, explaining how their roles are dark and hard, just like the eyes and determination of the tributes. I have the audience enraptured.

Soon Caesar and I are talking like buddies, discussing the showers, sniffing each other's hair. I could hear Haymitch's approval through the laughter. Finally, it came up, just like Haymitch said. "So Peeta, tell us, the audience is dying to know, do you have a girl back home?"

_Rule 2: Hesitate. Be shy about it. Get the audience to the edge of their seat first._

I hesitated for a long second and then give a quick shake of my head. Caesar, and the audience, remain obviously unconvinced. "Oh come on, handsome lad like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?"

I drag out a long sigh. "Well. There is this one girl. I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know I was alive until the reaping."

There's a collective sympathetic sigh from the crowd. "She have another fellow?"

An image of Gale flashes in my mind and I feel my shoulders tense. _Rule 3: Don't act jealous or bitter. It won't get you sympathy or attention._ Instead I shrug to release the tension, "I don't know. But a lot of boys like her."

Caesar smiles encouragingly, "Here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down then, eh?"

_Rule 4: Ease into it._

"I don't think it's going to work out. Winning…well, it won't help in my case."

Caesar's eyes widened, "Why ever not?"

I stammer through this last part. I can't tell if I'm just a fantastic actor, if I'm scared of Katniss's reaction, or if I'm just nervous to be this honest. "Because…because…she came here with me."

There is a moment of complete silence before the crowd reacts. Caesar looks honestly pained, "Oh, that is a piece of bad luck."

"It's not good."

The audience is deafening as Caesar wraps it up. I have completely succeeded. Haymitch gave me a nod of approval and Portia is beaming, but I avoid looking at Katniss as we both make our way to the elevators. We both managed to get on separate cars that didn't contain anyone from our team that somehow stopped within seconds of each other on our floor. Before I even have a chance to look over at her, I feel myself being forcibly shoved. I crash into a vase behind me, shattering it, the shards covering my hands. It takes me a second to figure out if the wetness I feel is water or blood. "What was that for?!"

"You had no right!" she starts yelling, "No right to go saying those things about me!"

Of course this is when the rest of our crew shows up, Effie immediately joins in the screaming when she sees the blood, "what happened? Did you fall?"

"After she shoved me." I respond matter-of-factly, as Cinna grabs my hand and helps me to my feet.

"Shoved him?" Haymitch turned to Katniss, who turns the shouting on him, "This was your idea, wasn't it? Turning me into some kind of fool in front of the entire country?!"

"It was my idea. Haymitch just helped me with it."

"Yes, Haymitch is very helpful. TO YOU."

"You ARE a fool." Haymitch responds in disgust, "Do you think he hurt you? That boy just gave you something that you could never achieve on your own."

"He made me look weak."

They keep shouting at each other as I try to pull the shards of glass out of my hand, causing more blood to drop from my hands. "She's just worried about her boyfriend." I bitterly remark.

Katniss' cheeks were flushed with anger and embarrassment, "I don't have a boyfriend."

"Whatever. But I bet he's smart enough to know a bluff when he sees it. Besides, YOU didn't say you loved ME. So what does it even matter?" I'm angry now. I was trying to help her. I was intending to confess to her it was the truth. To tell her everything. But why bother? If she reacted like this when she thought I was lying, how would she react to the truth?

I look back up at her, she looks far calmer now. "I'm sorry I shoved you."

"Doesn't matter. Although, it's technically illegal."

"Are your hands okay?"

"They'll be all right."

An awkward silence follows, but then we're all called into the main room for dinner. I pull Portia aside, "I feel really light headed, do you have bandages or something?"

She looks up at me and quickly turns to the group, "Will you excuse us?"

As soon as we get into the elevator, she starts talking, "It was the right thing. What you did for Katniss."

I just shrugged in response.

"No, really, telling the truth is never a bad thing."

"Why is everyone so convinced it was the truth?" I can't help but snap. "Maybe I just want someone from our district to win and know it can't be me."

Portia looks up at me sadly. "Peeta. Anyone can tell by the way you look at her."

I clenched my fists in frustration then my teeth to hold back the cry of pain, "She's so frustrating. I just wanted to do something to help her."

Portia put her arm around my shoulders, "She'll appreciate it one day. It's all going to work out, Peeta. I can feel it."

I shook my head, but I knew better than to argue.


	12. Chapter 12: No Sleep

Portia helped me make up a story to the medical team to avoid getting Katniss or I into any trouble and soon we were headed back up to the loft with the promises that my hands would be perfectly normal in the morning. I could tell Katniss felt bad the second I walked in, but I let my jaw stay set with anger a little longer as we sat and watched the replay of the interviews. Katniss looks absolutely gorgeous, she murmurs a concern that she seems shallow but everyone there quickly hushed her. As far as I'm concerned, I seem like I cannot take anything seriously, even my impending death, until we talk about her…that's when even I admit that I shine. Together we have made District 12 unforgettable, together we are ensuring that Katniss gets to go home.

After the closing anthem, we have to say our final goodbyes to Haymitch and Effie. They both stay behind at the headquarters to help with sponsors and publicity. Effie actually shed a few tears as she kissed us both on the cheek and said barely supportive words of encouragement. After she hurried out of the room, Haymitch crossed his arm facing us. "Any final words of advice?" I finally question.

"When the gong sounds, get the hell out of there. You're neither of you up to the blood bath at the Cornucopica. Just clear out, put as much distance as you can between yourselves and the others, and find a source of water, got it?"

"And after that?"

"Stay alive." A reference to that first day on the train. But this time there is no intoxication and no laughter. Instead, Katniss and I both nod. He claps a hand on our shoulders and then turns and leaves too. I feel a small twinge inside of me, realizing this is the last time I'll see Haymitch and that I may actually miss the man. Katniss on the other hand, shows absolutely no emotion as she walks straight to her room. I start to follow but Portia motions for me to come over. "I want to change the bandages on your hands first." They already look miles better than they did before. "Peeta. Listen. I know you're going into that arena to die. I know that's your plan. But don't give up before you even try. You could win if you weren't so set on making sure she did. Anything can happen when you get in that arena."

"Portia, we can do this tomorrow."

Her arms wrap around me and she squeezes tightly, "You're right. I'd say get a good night's sleep, but I know you won't." Her lips press against my forehead and then she glides down the hallway leaving me alone in the dim light.

The silence engulfed me and for a moment everything was still. And in that moment, I realized Portia was right, no sleep was going to be had. I tried for a few hours, I really did, but I gave up after awhile and headed to the roof. I sat on the edge, thoughts swirling through my mind, not even clear enough for me to grasp what I was thinking about. The capital was throwing a party in the streets, people dancing and drinking in the streets, celebrating the beginning of the end of our lives.

I don't know how long I was sitting there, how long I stared out at nothing, thinking about everything, but it didn't feel too much later that I felt like someone was watching me. "You should be getting some sleep." Her voice cuts through the silence.

I give a small shake of my head, "I didn't want to miss the party. It's for us, after all."

She walked up beside me, leaning over the edge of the rail, "Are they in costumes?"

I scoff bitterly, "Who could tell with all the crazy clothes they wear? Couldn't sleep either?"

"Couldn't turn my mind off."

"Thinking about your family?" I don't even know why I questioned this. My family has been the furthest thing from my mind since I got here.

"No. All I can do is wonder about tomorrow. Which is pointless, of course." She pauses. "I really am sorry about your hands."

"It doesn't matter, Katniss." I brush her off, "I've never been a contender in these games anyway."

"That's no way of thinking."

"Why not? It's true. My best hope is to not disgrace myself and…" I almost confess my true goal. And to make sure you get home safely.

"And what?"

I change my mind, going with another concern of mine instead, "I don't know how to say it exactly. Only…I want to die as myself. Does that make sense? I don't want them to change me. Turn me into some kind of monster that I'm not."

I can tell Katniss doesn't understand this at all, "Do you mean you won't kill anyone?

"No, when the time comes, I'm sure I'll kill just like everybody else. I can' do down without a fight. Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to…to just show the Capital that they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games."

"But you're not." She points out, "None of us are. That's how the Games work."

I lift my hand to run in through my hair before remembering he bandages and returning it to my lap. "Okay, but within the framework, there's still you and there's still me. Don't you see that?"

She shrugs, "A little. Only…no offense, but who cares, Peeta?"

"I do. I mean, what else am I allowed to care about at this point?" I say it angrier than I intend, I can't blame her for being confused. I barely understand what I'm saying. I didn't even know it was bothering me until I started talking.

Katniss stepped back probably in response to my anger, "Care about what Haymitch said. About staying alive."

I can't help but smile. Because she doesn't know. She can't know. The staying alive bit. That isn't for me. That's all for her. "Okay. Thanks for the tip, sweetheart."

I see the fire rise in her eyes, "Look, if you want to spend the last hours of your life planning some noble death in the arena, that's your choice. I want to spend mine in District Twelve."

"Wouldn't surprise me if you do. Give my mother my best when you make it back, will you?" I smile sadly.

"Count on it." She snaps back. She pauses for a second, waiting to see if I'll say anything else, but I don't. There isn't anything left to say. I turn back to the capital streets, to the happy people cheering at the impending death of 23 children, including one of the two people standing on that roof. What else can you really say? I finally turn back, "Goodnight, Katniss." But she's gone.


End file.
